


shush now

by d__T



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: (but not how you think), Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Frottage, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, arctic compliant but not canon or expedition compliant, emotional exhibitionism, needy bottom jopson, regular exhibitionism too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d__T/pseuds/d__T
Summary: @terror_exe: thomas jopson/thomas blanky, angst, emotional exhibitionism, oral sexThings have settled down enough and Jopson is far enough along in his recovery to be horny. Fortunately the other Thomas is more than happy to help him out. Things are still weird, though.
Relationships: Thomas Blanky/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: @terror_exe Flash Fest





	shush now

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small subsection of a sprawling au that I'm working on with [Polaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris), specifically edited to support this prompt. The au is largely canon up through ep 10, except for the merry band of mutineers kidnapping James early and Francis going feral about it. The tuunbaq still eats pretty much everyone but due to slightly altered circumstances, the severely injured tuunbaq wanders off and vomits up a bunch of souls. And then the gang has to survive! The gang includes: Francis and James, Harry and Silna, Little, Jopson, and at very long last, Blanky. Blanky, who is definitely still dead but not very put out by being made partially out of ice now. Preoccupied with surviving the coming winter, they don't have much time to ask why or how Blanky is the way he is. And then things get weird.  
> This short piece happens right before things get weird.

The onset of polar night has driven them all back together into the larger tent to keep their warmth. The irony of them hoping for a hard and heavy snow is not lost on Jopson, although now it would be a blessing instead of a curse. They’re all counting the days until they can build an ice house and have, if not privacy, some space. Building the larger tent lower and wider and using the folded canvas of the smaller one for the bottom layer of the floor had allowed them just enough space for the unlikely seven of them to lay at the same time to sleep.

But enough doesn’t mean much more than room enough to knock elbows, and they still have to rotate who gets to sleep in the inferior perpendicular spot at their heads to keep it fair. Blanky had volunteered to keep the perpendicular spot until they got the ice house because he needs the warmth less than the rest of them but Crozier had vetoed that right away. Jopson is secretly horribly grateful for it. 

Because it means that there’s only two nights in the rotation where he sleeps without Tom’s arm over his side, instead of all of them. And it keeps him from accidentally snuggling up to Crozier, something that would be truly embarrassing for everybody. 

They’re not usually seven up like this, but Jopson has no idea how Lady Silence’s people do it, he really doesn’t. They’ve all been heroically ignoring Lady Silence and Goodsir being engaged and far from the eyes of God. 

But for now it is him cursed with wakefulness in the dark. He could sit watch for a little while, but there’s no need for it. Tom doesn’t really sleep anymore, not since the shale returned him to them, partially made of ice and invulnerable to everything that the world has thrown at them since. It’s not nightmares, not like some of them; he could simply stay awake and watch over them but he seems to find some comfort in being human with them like this. And in being a filthy instigator, not that Jopson would ever mind to stop him.

Jopson resettles Tom’s arm over him, weaving their fingers together. After a moment, Tom squeezes his hand back before wriggling his fingers free. Jopson makes a curious sound, rolling just slightly back to press his shoulder into Tom’s chest. 

Tom pets him, letting him drift under his touch even as his motions ever tend towards groping him. Jopson rouses slightly when Tom moves him to snug their hips together. "Mm?" 

Tom leans slightly over him, lips at his ear and whisper tickling his overlong hair, "I have a surprise for you." 

"Oh?" If it was an object, he wouldn’t have waited until the depth of the rest of them sleeping, wouldn’t have whispered it like that.

But Tom doesn't say any more, only sliding his hand down Jopson's side and back up again, cool touch rucking his shirt up over the lean curve of his waist. Jopson squirms slightly, only reluctantly stilling under his touch when Tom shushes him. 

Tom is taking full advantage of how responsive he is and Jopson can't find it in himself to mind. He hasn't gotten steady dick in years, and from someone who will hold him after and be seen with him in what passes for public here? No, Jopson's quite enjoying it. 

Jopson rolls to face Tom, tucking himself in against him again. At a suggestive touch from Tom, he undoes the buttons of his drawers for him too. "What's the surprise?" 

"Mm." Tom smooths his hand all the way down to Jopson's arse to squeeze and pull at it. Jopson moans quietly, muffling himself against his shoulder.

Tom kneads at him, rocking them together, and they're pressed so tightly together that Jopson is sure that his need can be felt. He's wondering if Tom means to have him off just like this, it wouldn't be out of line with all the other delightful and vaguely humiliating things they've done when a finger brushes his arsehole. 

He freezes, breath locked in his throat, and Tom chuckles low and rough. "Oh, you're gonna be a delight when I finally get into you." 

Jopson whispers, "Oh, please." 

Tom presses into him, just that fingertip, and Jopson moans, control fracturing. 

"Shush now, you wouldn't want them hearing." The order is matter of fact; he shakes his head in agreement. The next order has a tinge of amusement in it. "Now touch my cock for me." 

He reaches down between them, brushing his own cock, meaning to fondle Tom through his underclothes before fully obeying when his fingers brush a hard bar where he’d expected something soft. 

"Oh." He whispers. That’s the surprise. Tom had figured it out, whatever it was that had gotten lost when he’d put his body back together in the hazy aftermath, and all for him. He explores it with his fingers through fabric, and then again, taking his time like he's never felt a cock before. It's a little strange without the heat but he doesn't mind; he wants to get his mouth on this too. 

Tom moves his finger, a tiny motion reminding Jopson just how he's being violated. "Frig us together." 

Jopson shifts slightly so that he can get them together in his fist and oh, he can feel his heat spreading through Tom. 

Tom isn't even fucking him, it's the suggestion of it, that he could and in just the ways that Jopson so pettily craves too that's got him careless. 

"Shh, Tommy, shh." Tom makes a curious sound, "or do you  _ want _ them to hear you? Have Francis see how good you can be. Maybe I'd let him use your sweet mouth." 

Jopson is absolutely ashamed of the sound that he makes. 

They’ve skirted around Jopson’s obsession before, poking at it much more gently than that. Tom is fully aware of that secret and seems perfectly willing to yank Jopson around by it. "Like that, don't you." 

Jopson doesn't have enough mind left to try to hold out, to warn or to ask and Tom has pulled out and is squashing him against his chest as he jerks into his hand, panting and desperate in his own trapped heat. 

Tom lets him roll onto his back and clean his hand off and catch his breath for a moment. Then murmurs, "you're not done yet,” and pushes him down. 

Jopson doesn’t bother with being sweet on his way down, he just obeys the hand on his head to put his mouth where his hand so recently was.

His given heat is already dissipating. No matter, he replaces it with his tongue and enthusiasm. Tom groans, “Tommy,” and Jopson feels his ears burn. He knows which name he’d chosen and it’s not that one.

Tom goes easier on him this time, easier than their first time or even their last time. Still he appreciates the leeway to adjust, it has been a very long time since he’s sucked a hard cock. He manages to scrunch himself up enough to get the access that he wants and not, oh God, disturb someone with a stray limb. It lets him take Tom how he wants him; all the way to the back of his mouth.

Tom’s hand had never left his head but now his grip in Jopson’s hair tightens. Active and demanding, moving him how he likes and for Jopson to pick up on. Jopson loves it.

Jopson takes control back with his fingers curling behind Tom’s balls, Tom takes it back by pushing into Jopson’s mouth until his nose is slightly squashed. They trade it back and forth a few more times, Tom growing more reckless each time until Jopson is near certain that he’s trying to get them caught.

But he gets Tom to come before they get caught, swallowing it all back until Tom pulls him off with a groan. He wipes his lips off on the back of his hand and lets Tom pull him the rest of the way up to lay beside him.

“You’re a treat, lad.” Tom murmurs, voice as close as he was when this started, arm already over his side again.

Jopson kisses him, smiling and entirely pleased with himself. That earns him a kiss and a command to settle down, which he obeys, sated enough to sleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> [yeets this in bare minutes before the collection closes]


End file.
